Stolen
by Totchi
Summary: Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped and a ransom letter was left in the possession of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry the Auror has been called to investigate and bring Draco back, but something about this kidnapping is not what it seems. HPDM, SLASH, EWE
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Author: **Totchi  
**Title: **Stolen  
**Pairing: **HP/DM  
**Rating: **Mature  
**Summary: **Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped and a ransom letter was left in the possession of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry Potter has been called in to investigate and bring Draco back, but something about this kidnapping is not what it seems.

It seemed like an eternity before he was able to force his eyes to open, but even after he was able to accomplish such a task, it didn't do him any good. Everything seemed out of focus and distorted, as if he needed to slip on a pair of glasses. But he knew he didn't wear glasses, so something was definitely _wrong_. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach as he slowly realized that something wasn't wrong, _everything_ was wrong.

_Where am I…?_

His head felt so heavy, he wasn't able to shift his face from where it was, pressed against a mattress that definitely did not feel like his. Where was he? Some flat belonging to a bloke he met somewhere, possibly out in a club? His head ached terribly, but he felt a persistent need, a knot forming in the bottom of his belly, telling him to try to figure out what had happened. All he could remember was talking… talking to whom? And then darkness…

Before he could try to think any harder about his predicament, the sound of a door opening made his breath catch in his throat. He tried desperately to move, to push himself up to see who it was that was slowly making their way to him. Despite struggling to move himself, he was unable to do nothing more than make a soft, desperate noise.

"Shh…"

A hand slowly made its way into his hair, and despite the gentle touch, he couldn't stop the apprehensive shudder that made its way down his spine.

The voice spoke again. "Don't worry," he heard the voice say softly, "You'll be fine soon enough."

Something pressed against his lips, something cold and smooth. He made another desperate noise, pressing his lips together, refusing to open his mouth. The gentle hand in his hair trailed down to his face, brushing against his cheekbone before grabbing his chin.

"Drink."

_No..!_ He vehemently refused, his jaw tightening, the only thing he could do to show his defiance.

The grip on his face turned harsh, the hand turning rough and pressing so hard against his mouth, he was sure his jaw would be bruised. Unable to keep his jaw clenched against the pressure, he felt his lips slipping apart. Before a sound could even slip from his lips, something slimy and thick slid past his lips and down his throat.

"There, there…" the voice practically purred as a tingling sensation begun to blossom on his tongue, following the trail that the liquid had left. "You'll feel better soon. I'll take good care of you."

Despite trying to keep his eyes open, he found that the edge of his vision began to black out, shadows slowly creeping in, making him convinced that he was seeing Dementors swim in and out of vision. As blackness slowly consumed him, only one thought passed through him.

_I want to see him one last time…_

Harry made an irritated noise in the back of his throat as he looked at the path that was just past the gate he was standing in front of. Before he even pulled out his wand, the gate slowly opened, allowing him to start the long walk to the large estate at the end of the path.

"The gate even knows me now…" he grumbled under his breath, resisting the urge to growl and stomp his feet.

He could've sworn it was the fourth time this month that he had found himself walking this path, up to themanor belonging to none other than the resident pain in his arse. He still couldn't believe that Kingsley had allowed an Auror, especially one of _his_ status, to continually waste his time with such frivolous things.

_Well…_ Harry sighed, regretting what he had just thought about. _I'm not anything special and I _certainly_ don't need special treatment… But really, AGAIN?_

He was really starting to get tired of having to make these house calls to the Malfoy Manor. He was especially tired of the fact that each time he had to come out to perform an investigation or inquiry, he never found anything even worth an Auror coming out to deal with. If anything, he was convinced that Malfoy was just egging him on. And add the fact that Malfoy didn't just insist, no, he _demanded_ that Harry be the one who he would discuss his issues with… Well, Harry just didn't know what else he could do. Harry, after all, was a nice person.

_Even if people like damn Malfoy just try to get under my skin… _

Harry sighed as he reached the large doors leading into the mansion. He had already decided that Malfoy was probably an undiagnosed hypochondriac, so whatever he wanted to complain about today wouldn't surprise Harry. Without bothering to knock, Harry reached out and pushed the large doors, with the intent of lecturing Malfoy once he saw the blonde man.

His mouth, open and ready to scoff at Malfoy, suddenly went dry and closed with a resounding snap as he stared at not one Malfoy, but two. And these Malfoys were definitely not the ones he had expected to see.

Harry found himself standing still at the entryway into the manor, watching warily as Lucius Malfoy walked towards him. Despite the fact that it's been quite a few years since Harry was a young boy at Hogwarts, he still felt as though Lucius was trying to tower above him. Despite his wariness of the elder Malfoy, what caught his eye was the woman standing beside Lucius.

Narcissa, it seemed, had been crying. And despite the fact that everything about her was regal and haughty, he could see the redness beneath her eyes and the faint pink color her nose had turned, as if she had been sniffing into a tissue.

Harry found himself opening his mouth, trying to make words come out. It would probably be best for him to ask what exactly was going on and why they needed the assistance of an Auror, Harry in particular, as he was told he was specifically requested. Before a sound could come forth from his mouth, Lucius had shoved something into his hand.

"Er… What is this?" Potter blinked owlishly as he adjusted his glasses, looking from Lucius' tight-lipped expression down to the piece of parchment in his hand.

"A ransom letter," came the curt reply from the man standing in front of him.

A soft sob was heard from behind Lucius, as Narcissa put a hand to her mouth.

"Someone has taken Draco!" she sobbed softly, as Lucius made his way back to his wife, wrapping his arms around her in support.

If it wasn't such a serious situation, Harry would've thought it was quite odd to see the pair in such a tender embrace. But as a knot had settled in the pit of his stomach, he turned his focus down to the letter. Written on a piece of parchment paper in plain black ink, it said:

_I can offer him more than anyone else in the world. Just because he can't see it now, it does not mean he won't see the truth soon. If I cannot have him, nobody else will._

Harry swallowed slowly, his hand slowly clenching around the note.

Indeed, it seemed that Draco Malfoy had been kidnapped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Author: **Totchi  
**Title: **Stolen  
**Pairing: **HP/DM  
**Rating: **Mature  
**Summary: **Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped and a ransom letter was left in the possession of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry Potter has been called in to investigate and bring Draco back, but something about this kidnapping is not what it seems.

**Author's Notes:** This chapter definitely took long enough… And I always get distracted with other ideas and want to start something new before finishing what I've already started… Sorry! But no fear, I've gotten back on the right path. Please enjoy!

oooOooo

Harry tapped his wand against his desk, frowning as he stared down at the piece of parchment sitting before him. His brow furrowed as he continued to stare down at it, hoping that the words staring back at him would somehow offer him some sort of clue.

A knock on his door disturbed his thoughts and he looked up, just in time to see the bright red shock of hair that belonged to his partner.

"Hey Ron," he said easily, glancing back down at what was on his desk, not bothering to invite the other man in. Years working with him knew that he didn't have to.

The heavy sound of boots hitting the side of his desk didn't bother him, though he did spare a glance to the other man as he sat down in one of the chairs in the room.

"I heard that you've been pulled onto a case specifically for Malfoy?" Ron asked, an eyebrow rising, a slight smirk pulling at his lips. "Are you sure he's just not pulling your chain?"

Harry sighed, setting his wand down and sitting back in his own seat. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"I honestly don't know," he admitted with a frown. "It's hard for me to tell, though it wasn't him that I met up with at the Malfoy Manor."

Indeed, despite his unexpected meeting with both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, he still wasn't sure if he should've taken this case too seriously. After all, over the past few months, Draco Malfoy had seemed to make the Aurors Department, if not Harry's own office, his home. And each time he did come, it was to interrupt whatever work Harry was working on and demand that he help him with one small thing to the next.

He sighed as he leaned forward, pushing the note he had taken from the Malfoys to Ron. Since Ron worked with him on every case that required more than one Auror, he might as well ask for his friend's advice. He watched as Ron shifted to sit up, taking the note and reading through it carefully.

"They said they received this after they noticed Malfoy was missing," Harry supplied helpfully.

"How was it delivered to them?" Ron asked, pulling his legs off the desk so he could lean forward, studying the parchment carefully. He had pulled out his wand and started poking the paper with it.

Harry thought back to his discussion with the Malfoys before responding, "By owl, though it seemed to be a normal postal owl, nothing discernable about it."

He watched as Ron let go of the piece of paper, sitting back in his chair while folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm not sure if you'd like to hear this, mate," Ron shook his head, his frown reflecting what Harry felt on the inside. "But I think that Malfoy's really been kidnapped… And based on this letter, I'd say he was kidnapped by some psycho."

Harry felt his stomach sinking, as the realization that Draco Malfoy could possibly be in extreme danger hit him like a ton of bricks. He sat up, shaking his head. For once, he wished that Malfoy were just messing with him.

oooOooo

When Draco opened his eyes, he realized that he had a pounding headache. He winced as he shifted, rolling over onto his back as he waited for his eyes to focus on the top of the four-poster bed he was situated on. His stomach lurched uncomfortably as his eyes refused to focus. He made a soft noise of discomfort, letting his eyes fall close.

While he willed away his pain, he tried to think back to what happened before he woke up. He frowned as he tried to piece together what his last waking moments were, and suddenly he was assaulted with the faint memories of being somewhere unfamiliar, a stranger talking to him, and some foul potion being forced down his lips.

His eyes snapped open, as the realization felt like ice water being doused on him. Ignoring the painful spinning the room had taken, he forced himself up. He needed to get out of this place! He reached out around him, immediately searching the area for his wand. Unable to find it, he sneered to himself, deciding he would have to leave without it.

Closing his eyes for one more second, he breathed in deeply before opening his eyes again, moving to push himself off of the bed. As he shifted himself off of the bed, he heard a faint jingling noise and a weight settled itself on Draco's left leg. He looked down, and to his horror, found that a heavy chain was attached to his leg and wrapped around to a bedpost. He pulled at it, not surprised when he realized it was attached rather firmly. He wouldn't be able to get rid of it without his wand. Giving his leg one more tug, he tried his hardest to glare hatefully at the chain, though the effect was lost, both due to the fact that glaring wouldn't get him anywhere with the chain stuck on his leg and that he could barely focus on anything with all the spinning.

So engrossed in trying to settle his stomach, Draco completely missed the soft click of the door opening. Only when the floor squeaked somewhere behind him, did Draco tense up and turn around to face his assailant. He saw the figure of a man walk towards him, though he knew he couldn't focus enough to see his face. Bringing his arms up defensively, he took enough steps back until he was backed up against the edge of the bed.

"Get away from me," he snarled, unwilling to cave into his fear of what this man wanted from him.

Instead of intimidating the man with his hostility, it seemed to _amuse_ him. In fact, the other man seemed to be _laughing_. Draco's glare faltered as dread settled itself firmly in his stomach. Suddenly, he felt like he was going to be sick and he didn't think it was because of the vertigo. As if the stranger could tell what he was thinking, he took a few steps closer, close enough that he was standing right before the blonde before Draco had a chance to even take another breath.

Draco heard rustling and saw a hand move before him, reaching out, as if to grab some part of Draco himself. Panic set in and before he could feel the fingers coming closer to his face, he had pulled back and suddenly pain bloomed across his hand, fist clenched, and the satisfying sound of his attacker emitting a noise of pain resounding in the silent room.

"I said, get away from me," he repeated, sounding much more resolute and intimidating than he felt inside. In fact, if he thought about it carefully, he knew that there wasn't much that he could've done.

When he felt something jab into his side, he realized that maybe he shouldn't have tried to do anything at all. A soft chuckle made Draco frown even more, risking to pull back away from the wand that was shoved up against him. What the hell was wrong with this man?

"I would've been upset if you weren't so _tenacious_," the other man's amusement was clear in his voice. "After all, I do love your strong will."

Draco felt the wand pull away, but before he could even take a breath, he felt more than heard the curse whispered.

"_Crucio!_"

White-hot pain seared across Draco's body and he felt himself crumbling, crashing into the floor. He could barely think, but he bit down on his lip, fighting against the urge to vocalize his agony. While he fought his own inner struggle against the curse, he completely missed the other man squatting down, watching him with interest. A hand reached out to brush through the platinum blonde locks, brushing his bangs away from his sweaty forehead.

"Soon enough, you'll only think of me," the other man promised, cancelling the curse with a flick of his wand. He leaned over, pulling the convulsing wizard into his arms, lips brushing against his temple.

oooOooo

Harry groaned in frustration as he pushed himself back from his desk, one hand moving to tug at his hair. He had been trying to figure out if there were any clues in the ransom note left during the disappearance of Malfoy. After hours of trying to see if he had missed anything in any way, he still was unable to find a single clue that could start him in the right direction.

It definitely was a strange case, he had decided an hour prior. Despite being termed as a ransom by the elder Malfoys and the Auror department, the more that Harry read the note that was left behind, the more it seemed that the note's intent was only to provide an announcement. If the person responsible for Malfoy's disappearance wanted money, they needed to provide better hints than what was in front of Harry.

Harry frowned, feeling uncomfortable with the path his thoughts were going. In most cases like this one, when an additional note is discovered, it often led Aurors in the right direction. However, Harry felt an unease with the idea of sitting back and waiting for a note to come his way. No matter what he felt about Malfoy, he was still _human_.

A soft knock interrupted his inner debate and he looked up.

"Come in," he said loudly, folding up the ransom note and shuffling it in a stack of papers sitting on his desk.

A sandy brown head appeared as the door opened and a man walked into the room, adjusting his glasses.

"Hi Auror Potter," the man said pleasantly. "I've brought you some tea."

Harry gave the other man a kind smile, watching as he moved in and placed a mug on his desk.

"Thought you were a little more stressed than usual," he continued, before placing an envelope on his desk. "This also came in by owl. It was addressed to you."

"Thank you, Bradley," Harry picked up the mug gratefully.

He sipped at the tea and watched as the secretary threw him another smile before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Harry let himself relax a little bit against his chair, letting the warmth of the tea distract him from his earlier frustration. Eyeing the envelope sitting on his desk, he placed the mug down. The envelope didn't have any return address and he hadn't been expecting any letters. He gingerly opened it and pulled out the parchment that was folded inside.

He examined the piece of parchment carefully, realizing that it was a card with intricate designs on the front, laid out in black ink. Other than the swirls, there was nothing else to indicate what exactly the card was for. Harry made a soft noise in his throat, wondering which one of his friends sent him the unannounced card. Flipping it open, he stared at it in confusion. The inside of the card was completely blank!

Picking up the envelope again, he turned it around. Right on the front, _Auror Potter_ was written out neatly. It was indeed addressed to him. But why would anyone send him an empty card? A burning sensation met his fingertips and he dropped the card in surprise. His eyebrows raised in shock as the card shifted on its own, floating down to the desk and opening.

Noises met his ears and soon Harry was hearing a conversation materialize out of thin air.

"… _get away from me!_"

Harry sat up straight, looking down at the card in horror. He would recognize that voice anywhere.

Sounds of a struggle played out and soon enough, another voice rose up to greet Harry's ears.

"_I would've been upset if you weren't so tenacious. After all, I do love your strong will._"

Harry barely had time to register the low voice before a whispered curse followed. The color drained out of his face as he leaned over the card, realizing that the soft thumps and choked noises were from Malfoy struggling against the Cruciatus Curse. Harry had to close his eyes, his body tingling with the faint memories of pain he knew the curse could make one feel.

He shoved his chair back, willing the bile in his throat down. There was no doubt in his mind that Malfoy was really in danger. He needed to find out where the other man was before it was too late. He closed the card and grabbed the envelope, shoving the paper back inside. He had to find Ron.

Running out of the office, he prayed that no more letters would appear.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Author: **Totchi  
**Title: **Stolen  
**Pairing: **HP/DM  
**Rating: **Mature  
**Summary: **Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped and a ransom letter was left in the possession of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry Potter has been called in to investigate and bring Draco back, but something about this kidnapping is not what it seems.

**Author's Notes:** Yay, we're finally getting somewhere. Placed some clues in this chapter… Already working on Chapter 4, which will give a lot more insight. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

oooOooo

A knock on his door made Harry raise his head from the pile of papers he was slowly working through.

"Come in," he called, taking the moment to put his quill down, pulling his glasses off to rub at the bridge of his nose.

He had been concentrating so hard on this paperwork, he had completely forgotten to get lunch. And now that it was closer to six, he might as well just work through everything until he left to go home. He placed his glasses back on his face just as the door opened, and he glanced up, the tired expression on his face giving away to annoyance.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he sighed, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

He really wasn't in the mood to mess around with the other man.

"I wanted to consult you on something regarding security at Malfoy Manor," Draco replied breezily, ignoring the frustrated look of the other man with ease. "I was hoping you could help."

"Malfoy," Harry shook his head, frowning at the other man. "You always come here to bother me. You _do_ know that there are people here in the Ministry that can help you with whatever you need help with. Instead, you always come here to bother me when you _know_ I'm not just sitting on my arse and have time for you to come mess with me."

He held up a hand, stopping the other man from interrupting him.

"I'm serious, Malfoy," he continued, ignoring the frown that appeared on the other man's face. "All you do is come to bother me every few weeks with some small problem that shouldn't even come to the Auror department. I still don't understand how you even get down here as often as you do. I would've thought that you'd be turned away, in all honesty."

Harry watched as Malfoy's mouth opened as if he was to retort, but then he closed it, his expression curiously blank. When he did open his mouth to reply, Harry was surprised to find that the other man's voice was soft and very calm, unlike the angry, insulted response he was expecting.

"I can see that I am unwelcomed here," the blond replied shortly, taking a moment to glance at Harry before turning away and heading back to the door. "I apologize for wasting your time, Potter. That wasn't my intention at all."

Harry's frown deepened as he watched the other man leave, feeling something akin to guilt. It wasn't his fault, though. Malfoy always had the audacity to come into his office and bother him! It was about time that Harry stood up for himself and reminded the other man that he couldn't just come around whenever he wanted. They weren't even _friends_.

A red head poked its way into his doorframe and Harry didn't have the chance to smile before a bag that smelled like food sat itself on his desk.

"Thanks mate," Harry smiled, taking a second to open the bag, before surprise shown on his face. "I thought this would just be something fast. You didn't have to go out of your way to actually get _real food_."

He laughed as he pulled the food out, enjoying the smell of the freshly made bacon sandwich, digging through the bag to see what else was in there.

"Wasn't from me," Ron snorted, watching as Harry gave a triumphant shout, pulling out a slice of treacle tart.

Harry looked up quickly, unwrapping the food.

"What do you mean, it's not from you?" he asked before biting into the sandwich. "Who else would it be from?"

"Malfoy came by and dropped off food for the department," Ron couldn't help but smirk, watching as Harry blanched. "Said something about how he wanted to thank us for always helping him. Granted, it's not like he ever bothers anyone else but you."

Harry made a face, though he didn't stop eating. Malfoy did that? Maybe it'd be unwise for him to continue eating it, maybe it was poisoned… or something. That could explain the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Definitely.

Ron rolled his eyes as he watched his friend, following his train of thought, "You need to stop being so paranoid. He hasn't poisoned it, I already ate mine an hour ago… Still here, right?"

"He is a right git sometimes," he continued, watching his friend continue to eat. "But he's not as bad as he was in school… Come on Harry, he hasn't done anything in years."

oooOooo

Harry groaned, shifting in his chair as he lifted his head from his desk. He must've started dozing, Merlin knew that he hadn't been getting enough sleep ever since Malfoy's case landed on his desk. Now he was dreaming about Malfoy?

"Ugh…" he sat up, blearily looking at the closed door of his office. What time was it?

He cast a Tempus charm and noticed the time, frowning when he noticed how late it was. He slowly stood up, stretching to get all of the kinks out of his back. Taking one last look around his office, he packed up his things and headed out. Maybe he could get a few hours of sleep before coming back to continue his research.

oooOooo

"Are you in love with someone?"

Draco's head hurt as his eyes fluttered open, the faint sweetness from the potion that he just ingested reminding him of his current dangerous predicament. He felt a twinge of something and barely had the energy to respond.

"I don't know," he admitted softly, the words falling from his lips without him trying.

Apparently, that was not the appropriate answer, as he felt rough hands on his shoulders and he felt his head loll back and forth when he received a vicious shake.

"How do you not know?" was the growled response, though Draco thanked Merlin that the shaking finally stopped.

Draco winced even as he heard himself speak, "I've never been in love before."

That, however, must have been the response that this man wanted to hear because suddenly, the blond found the other man chuckling and pressing his lips across various parts of Draco's face. Draco felt bile rise in his throat and a noise of desperation left him, only to be forcibly swallowed by his kidnapper's mouth.

"You'll love me," the other man promised, with such conviction that Draco couldn't help but shiver in panicked apprehension. "I promise it. So next time I give you some Veritaserum, you'll say that you're in love with me."

"I won't ever love you," Draco grounded out, a faint sneer showing up on his lips despite his exhaustion. "I'd rather curse myself into insanity before I'd ever want to have any feelings for a sadistic, crazy kidnapper that is other than hatred!"

He winced, feeling rough hands in his hair, yanking his head back but he refused to back down, glaring hatefully at the man in front of him.

"You won't have a choice," his kidnapper hissed out, losing patience with his captive. "Just you wait, I've been planning this for _so long_. You're going to love me, and you won't have any choice at all."

The hand in his hair tightened and Draco closed his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the pain.

"You won't get away with this," the conviction in his own voice surprised Draco, who barely had it in him to keep conscious. "Everyone will notice that I am missing and soon enough, there will be Aurors tracking you down."

He swallowed nervously, the sight not left unnoticed by his captor, a predatory smile stretching on his face.

"You don't believe that do you, Draco?" he cooed softly, his hand letting go of Draco's hair so that he could trace the other man's face with his hands. "I can see it in your _face_. You know that nobody actually _cares_ for you…"

He continued, leaning closer to the tense man, enjoying the way the other man tried to jerk away, "You're just a dirty little Death Eater to everybody else but me… Who would try to come rescue you?"

A hand reached out, pulling sharply on Draco's left wrist, the Mark on his arm visible in the darkened room. Fingers started tracing the image faintly, but before long, sharp pressure of nails digging into his skin. Only when the pressure was painful enough to pull out a cry from Draco's lips, did it disappear.

"I know that you think _he_ will show up and save you," the other man laughed low in his throat, Draco's stomach fluttering uncomfortably as he continued on.

"You think that the great _Harry Potter_," he spat out the name in disgust, "will come to save you, but he won't. He won't waste his time with someone like you. He doesn't even _see_ you."

"You hope that he'll come to save you, don't you?"

Draco didn't have to wait for the Veritaserum to pull out an answer from him.

"Yes," he whispered. "I do. And he will."

The other man's smile deepened as he leaned in, his voice low as if he were telling Draco a secret that he only wished the other man to hear, "You know, I've been sending him messages… Messages about you and what I'm doing to you. But he hasn't come yet, has he? My dear, precious Draco…"

"He can't save you," he laughed softly, enjoying the pained look on the Malfoy's face. "And even if he'll be able to come find you… By that time it'll be too late. You'll already be in love with me and you won't want to leave."

oooOooo

"I think I'm going crazy," Harry announced resolutely, staring down at the various papers strewn across his desk. "I mean, it would completely make sense."

"I think you're driving yourself crazy because you haven't been able to find a lead in the case yet," Ron helpfully suggested, also looking through various pieces of paper.

Harry made a small noise of agreement, idly circling or underlining something that might be relevant… somehow.

"At least I was able to be put on the case too," Ron nudged Harry with an elbow. "Eh, right? So now you don't have to dig through all this stuff looking for the ferret by yourself."

"Yeah, finally," Harry grumbled, crumbling up a piece of paper and tossing it over his shoulder. "Took them long enough to think this was serious."

"Took you long enough to believe it wasn't just a trick," Ron pointed out, ignoring the icy glare sent his way. "Hey now, I'm just telling the truth mate. I'm not saying you're at fault or anything… Just that it took a long time to convince you that he wasn't just trying to get your attention again or something."

Harry decided that it would be better if he didn't comment. Instead, he picked up a heavy envelope, waving it towards Ron.

"Did you pull this out of the archives?" he asked, breaking open the seal. "I don't remember pulling this out myself…"

Ron glanced up to see what was in Harry's hands before his eyes widened in surprise.

"I didn't pull that out either, I don't know where it's from. Don't open it Harry!"

Harry's own eyes widened in surprise, cursing as the items inside tumbled out. He pulled away as quickly as he could, bringing out his wand. After a few moments and a quick succession of spells to tell if the items were cursed. After a moment of silence, he let out a breath just as Ron did, sitting heavily back against his seat.

"That was close," he mused lightly, reaching out to turn over the items that fell out. "I wonder where this is from. And what are these, pictures?"

He turned one over, frowning. It looked similar to those muggle pictures that they used to take in the old days… What were they called? Polaroid's? He pulled it over to examine it, while Ron reached out to snag another one. Unlike muggle ones though, Harry noticed that there were some movements in this one. But what was this picture of? He looked carefully at what seemed to be someone in bed, sleeping if Harry were to judge by the way that the person's chest was moving in a slow pattern. If only the person would shift, so he could see who exactly he was looking at.

"Harry," the seriousness of Ron's voice made Harry look up quickly, just in time to see a sick expression cross his friend's face.

Ron turned the picture he had in his hand over to face Harry, just as he breathed out heavily, looking up at the ceiling.

"It's Malfoy," he pointed out, watching as Harry's eyes focused in on the picture's details.

Harry grabbed at the picture, pulling it closer to him. He stared at the image, watching as the person in the picture shifted, face pulled in a tight grimace as if he were sleeping through a nightmare. Harry couldn't help but trace his finger across the face in the picture, knowing that it was indeed Malfoy's face he was looking at. He placed the photo down before turning his attention to the other ones, turning them all and organizing them so that they were spread across the desk.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Ron stated as he stared down at the pictures. "This guy is a psycho."

Harry agreed, though he felt sick enough that he couldn't open his mouth to verbally acknowledge his partner. All the pictures were of Malfoy, every single one of them. Each seemed to be in the same room, but the angles were all different and seemed to be taken of him at different times. One picture in particular stood out and Harry picked it up, staring at it. Malfoy's face was in focus and he was staring directly at Harry, eyes fluttering open and closed every few seconds. It looked as though Malfoy wasn't even sure where he was, let alone know that he was a _Malfoy_. Harry was sure that expression wasn't even supposed to be something that a Malfoy would know how to show. Malfoy looked so… vulnerable. It hurt Harry to see it.

"He looks drugged," Ron noted softly, glancing at the picture that Harry was looking at. "Whoever has him must be feeding him potions… Look how lethargic he looks in all of these pictures."

Harry put the picture down and pushed his chair back, standing up to shake the numbness out of his legs. These pictures were terrible, but at the same time… He frowned, leaning closer to inspect them.

"Does this… does this remind you of something?" his brows furrowed as he thought. "This seems strangely familiar…"

Ron got up to move over where Harry was standing, staring down at the pictures.

"I don't remember us ever having a case like this before," Ron shook his head, not quite sure where Harry was heading with this.

"No, not a case of ours," Harry moved to rearrange the photos, standing back after he was satisfied by something. "But… Didn't we do a case study about something that looked like this when we were in the Auror Academy?"

Ron frowned in concentration, trying to think back to their training.

"Maybe," he conceded, looking at the photos carefully. "I think I remember reviewing some case files that had a whole lot of photos in it. But this can't be the same person responsible, all of those studies were of criminals that got caught."

Ron glanced at the door before looking back at Harry.

"Let's go get Hermione, maybe she can help us find those files," he said after a few minutes. "And maybe we can get somewhere with this case."

oooOooo

It took Hermione Granger only five minutes to find something useful for them to look at. Harry shook his head, giving a grateful smile to the woman as he picked up the small box of files. It had taken Harry close to a week to even know where to begin.

"If only we had your help in the Auror Department, Hermione," he sighed, lifting the surprisingly heavy box up. "We would've solved this case by now."

Ron leaned over to give his wife a quick peck on the cheek, making sure that nobody was around to tease.

"You're brilliant as always," he offered up as well, Hermione giving a small smile at their compliments.

"I know you would be lost without me," she admitted to the two before her expression dampened. "But really, this is really serious if it seems like whoever has kidnapped Malfoy is anything like this man."

She pointed to the box, a look of revulsion on her face, "Even if the man is just trying to be a copycat… Those case files are disgusting. That man was a narcissistic sociopath."

Ron gave a gentle squeeze to his wife's arm, knowing how much she hated having to go through old case files like these. But they really needed her help because they wouldn't have been able to find anything on their own.

Harry sighed, looking down at the items in his hand. He was sure that he and Ron wouldn't fair any better. _Great_, he thought to himself. _Nothing better than spending your day reading about crazy wizards_…

"Just let me know if there's anything else I can help with," Hermione offered as they got ready to leave. "And update me about your case… I hope he's ok."

Harry nodded absently. He really hoped that Malfoy was ok as well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Author: **Totchi  
**Title: **Stolen  
**Pairing: **HP/DM  
**Rating: **Mature  
**Summary: **Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped and a ransom letter was left in the possession of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry Potter has been called in to investigate and bring Draco back, but something about this kidnapping is not what it seems.

**Author's Notes:** This chapter was being very difficult. I had written more than half of it, but it was the middle half and I couldn't figure out how to write the beginning and the end of it! That, and I started on another story, which I find much more fun to write. ;)

oooOooo

Harry wanted to pull his hair out. Or throw something across the room. Even cast a haphazard Incendio and see what ended up in flames. Harry Potter wasn't just frustrated, he was livid.

"Calm down, mate."

Ron gave a weary glance at his partner as they walked through the hall, heading back to Harry's office. He could feel the anger radiating off the other man in waves. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if Harry caused some of the lights to flicker or something to break. It wouldn't be the first time he let his magic get out of control. Just as Ron finished thinking it, some of the torches started swaying madly, creating ghostly shadows on the walls as Harry walked by sighing loudly.

"How can I calm down?" Harry grouched, giving a moody glance to the redhead. "I just had to sit down in a room for an hour and somehow explain to Malfoy's parents that even though I haven't even found him yet, I was competent enough to be on the case. I know what to expect from his father. But his mum? I didn't even know how to address it with her."

Ron grimaced, nodding in sympathy. He had seen everything play out in another room while he looked in, and though Lucius Malfoy was creating a scene with his anger and shouting, it was Narcissa Malfoy's calm and disappointed demeanor that bothered Ron even more. He was definitely glad he wasn't required to sit in during the meeting. He would've made the situation worse, probably by just co-existing in the room with them.

"But they left eventually," Ron pointed out, giving a half-grin to the other man, who saw it and gave out another exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, only because they knew that out of everyone here, we would take it most serious," Harry pulled at his hair again, agitated. Once the words came out of his mouth though, his anger quickly evaporated.

Ron noticed this and reached over, slapping his shoulder good-naturedly.

"It's true, you know," Ron shook his head, sighing. "No matter how long time pasts, there's still going to be those lingering feelings. Some people just can't get over it. It's probably why Malfoy felt comfortable always coming to bother you and nobody else. Git knew you treated him the way you did because to you he was the same stupid Malfoy from school, not because of anything else that happened back then…"

Harry threw him a look of surprise.

"Ron, when have you become so…" he wrinkled his brow, trying to think of a word but having difficulty.

Ron waved a hand dismissively, "Oh shove off, Harry. I've always been this brilliant, I just chose to hide it from everyone up until now."

His half smile turned into a full grin when Harry gave him a look that clearly stated he didn't believe him.

"Ok," he confessed. "Fine, I'll tell you the truth. It's hard not to become more observant you know, not when Hermione's around all the time. She's rubbing off on me."

"Now that, I believe," Harry mused lightly as they made their way back down to the Auror department.

He avoided the light punch aimed his way and gave a faint smile. When they finally made their way back, they were greeted by their secretary and a small stack of letters.

"I was going to leave them in your office, sir," Bradley gave them both a smile as he handed over the stack. "But I didn't want to move anything around on your desk."

"Wise move," Ron laughed aloud, making his way into Harry's office. "It looks like a natural disaster made its way onto his desk."

Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's comment but looked back at Bradley.

"Thank you for not moving anything, we've been doing some research and needed to go to a quick meeting before I had a chance to reorganize everything."

"Would you like me to help you put everything away?" Bradley asked, peering back into Harry's office. "Though I must admit… A lot of those things seemed rather…"

Harry stared at the other man and noted that he looked uncomfortable.

"Thank you for the offer," Harry shook his head gently while giving the other man a faint smile. "I think if you could get us some coffee, it would be even better."

"Coffee?" the other man looked surprised. "Not tea, sir?"

"No, Ron and I are in for a long night."

After a few hours, Harry and Ron found themselves with a few empty pots of coffee and more than a few kinks in their neck and shoulders. Ron gave a loud sigh as he stood up to stretch, a few pops from his back reminding Harry of the uncomfortable tightness forming on his own spine.

"Well," Ron threw the other man a glance. "I dunno about you, but I'm pretty tired of reading up on this Franklin lunatic."

Harry gave a sound of agreement, pushing himself back from the desk, letting his head fall back. They spent the last few hours combing through the various documents that Hermione had pulled for them regarding a wizard who had gained infamy a few years before Voldemort's first rising.

Jeremiah Franklin, Harry had read, is currently locked up in Azkaban for a life-term with no chance of parole. He was accused and convicted of kidnapping and killing seven witches in the span of five years, with accusations abound that he had killed dozens more muggle women. The details of the gruesome murders left a very bad taste in Harry's mouth and he had found himself skimming those details rather quickly in a bid to keep the bile from rising from his throat.

Ron, Harry had quickly noticed, had a brief look of disgust on his face in the beginning, but then it was replaced by a stern determination that had him filing through the reports and memos with a charmed quill and notepad beside him to take down notes for him. Harry was secretly thankful, as he was having a hard time taking down notes the later it got. Harry was never that good with picking out the minute details in Auror reports, so he was looking forward to Ron debriefing him on what he had found.

Harry pulled his head back up from where he had been resting it and looked over at his friend. Ron looked pretty tired and Harry was sure that he probably looked even worse. He opened his mouth to let the redhead know he was free to leave, but Ron spoke first.

"Do you think that whoever has Malfoy is a copycat?"

Harry closed his mouth, his brow furrowing as he thought. That idea wasn't lost on him as he had read through some of the reports. Throughout all of it, a theme had slowly popped up in regards to the victims that Franklin had taken, as well as what he did to them.

"He did kidnap blondes," Harry nodded his head, listing out what he had noticed. "And had also sent messages to authorities in an attempt to mock them when they began searching for the witches."

"Franklin also drugged his victims," Ron pointed out as well, pointing to some notes he had made. "And we already thought that Malfoy looked like he wasn't all there in those pictures."

"But that's where the similarities end," Harry shook his head, picking up his wand and giving it a wave, watching as all the evidence shuffled neatly back into folders. "This guy kidnapped witches, tortured them…"

He trailed off, a deep frown on his face as he recalled some of the more gruesome details.

"Raped them, and also killed them," Ron finished for him, a frown on his face as well. "None of which I hope have happened to Malfoy."

Harry's throat dried out as he tried not to think about something that horrible happening to the missing wizard.

"Franklin also kept the witches for only two weeks," he continued after clearing his throat. "If this other man is trying to be a copycat, that means we only have one more week before… it's too late."

Ron looked down at his notes again and pointed at the last line.

"I think we should go pay Franklin a visit," he tapped his notes with a finger. "Maybe we can pick up clues from him that we might've missed in the reports."

oooOooo

"I really hate that you've been marked…"

Draco could feel the fingers trailing down his forearm, but he couldn't find the energy to pull away, or even open his eyes. He didn't remember the last time he had any sort of sustenance and he could still taste the bitter remains of a potion that was force-fed to him, which he was pretty sure used to cause lethargy.

"It makes me really angry that someone would do this and mar your skin," his captor continued on, as if Draco's near-comatose state would elicit a normal conversation. "But don't worry, dear. I've made something that would get rid of it so that we don't have to see that disgusting tattoo."

Draco had been going in and out of consciousness at that point, but when he heard the crazy man talk about removing the Dark Mark, he used what energy he had left to focus. What was the insane man going on about? Draco had tried everything after the war to get rid of his Mark, and he knew there were no ways that were available to make it disappear.

As if he could read the man's mind, his kidnapper leaned forward, breath ghosting across the side of Draco's face.

"It'll be a little bit painful for you," he murmured softly, so close that Draco could feel chapped lips against his ear. "But in the end, it'll be worth it. Because you're mine and you should never have anything on you from anyone else. It makes me really unhappy, Draco."

When he felt the man pull away, Draco struggled to open his eyes. Ever so slowly, he was able to pry them apart to a crack, noticing that there was barely any light in the room. He let his eyes wander and focused in on the figure moving around in the dark. Soon enough, the other man came over with a vial that glimmered. It was too dim for him to try to recognize what was in the bottle, but he tensed up when the cork was removed from it and a foul odor travelled over to him. When the bed dipped from the weight of the other man and his arm was pulled away from his body, Draco sensed that he should prepare himself for something bad.

"Hopefully it won't hurt for very long," the other man said comfortingly, giving Draco's forearm a caress. "It'll be ok though, I'm here for you Draco. Just remember that."

With that, he tightened his grip on Draco's wrist and slowly poured the contents of the vial onto his exposed skin. The liquid inside the vial was slow to come out, thick and cold. Draco tried to keep himself from breathing in the terrible smell, but he was distracted by a strange sizzling sound and warmth creeping into his arm. He barely had time to shut his eyes as the warmth quickly turned into a searing sensation that seemed to burn its way down to his bones. His world was slowly turning black and he could faintly hear screaming. For a brief second, he wondered if some of the potion had spilled onto the crazy lunatic beside him and was causing him to scream. When blackness finally swallowed him whole, did he realize the screaming was coming from his own mouth.

oooOooo

"It wasn't a coincidence, how I chose my beautiful victims…" Franklin grinned, peering at the men on the other side of his cell. "I was very particular about them. I didn't just pick someone off the street."

"Why did you target those particular women?" Ron asked, his face schooled in a blank expression to not show his disgust at the man who was talking so casually about all of his victims. "Because they were blonde?"

Franklin scoffed, staring at the redhead as if he just asked if the other man was a wizard. However, a moment later, that same self-satisfied smile crossed his face as he leaned forward, excited to share his story.

"They were so beautiful, so tragic… I would watch them, pining away for someone that they could never have. I could see how hard they tried to be noticed, only to be rebuffed by the person that held their hearts in their hands and didn't even know it…" he paused, sighing as he closed his eyes, thinking back to his victims.

Harry cleared his throat to get the man's attention. Once the man's eyes opened again, Harry nodded his head, silently asking him to continue.

"I thought it was abysmal that they were in love with people that didn't even give them the time of day," he sneered softly, a strange light in his eyes highlighting the fact that he was in Azkaban for a reason. "They were so lovely… But nobody else appreciated them like I could. So I took them and I was going to convince them that they were better, that they could be loved and be in love with someone better."

"And who would love them better?" Harry asked, a frown gracing his lips.

"Me, of course!" Franklin laughed, as if it were obvious. "I would show them how better off they were with me, I loved them for what they were. I wouldn't just ignore them, I was better than whoever it was that they _thought_ they were in love with. I just had to prove it to them that I loved them more than anyone else."

"How did you convince them that they loved you instead?" Ron crossed his arms, feeling like they were actually getting somewhere for once in this weird case.

"Ah, you see… They were already so poisoned by the fact that they thought they were in love with someone else… Someone who didn't ever notice them," Franklin replied lightly, shrugging. "So I just had to get that poison out of their pretty little heads… It wasn't that hard, really. I just fed them some potions that I created myself… And soon enough, they knew that I was the only one that loved them."

"Love potions are impossible to make," Harry pointed out, frowning. "What did you make them take?"

A sly smile appeared on the other man's lips as he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

"I can assure you, Auror Potter," his eyes alight with mischief, "that when I was with them for the last time, embracing them when they were fully aware that they were about to die, my victims held onto me tightly and _begged_ me for more."

"If you don't believe me," he continued, amused by the two Aurors before him. "You are free to view everything first hand… I believe they have a Pensieve with all of my memories."

His laughter scathed against Harry's skin as he stared at the insane man trapped in his cell. Harry had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowing that many of the things that he had seen revolving around Malfoy's case were so similar to the cases caused by the man before him. But how could it be, when the man was locked up in Azkaban?

"Tell me, Auror Potter," Franklin's gaze pierced Harry's green eyes, making Harry wonder if he knew what he was thinking about. "Have you ever felt love like that for another? Love that you knew they never returned?"

Before Harry could reply, Franklin had gotten up, rushing to the bars to press as close as he could to the two men.

"No, you haven't, Auror Potter," he hissed out, eyes narrowed at the dark-haired man. "In fact, I can just tell by looking at you. You're one of _them_, the ones that ignore everyone around… I can just see it now, someone's so in love with you and you don't even notice… You _don't even care_!"

There was so much venom in the prisoner's eyes that Harry almost found himself stepping back, only to remind himself that the other man couldn't get through even if he tried.

"You know what I did to those that were like you?" Franklin cooed out, his eyes crazed. "I would tease them… Send them letters and pictures and videos… Oh, you can't imagine how stupid they realized they were when they received those gifts from me, seeing how the ones that used to love them so much now loved me… Called my name, begged for me…"

"It's what people like you deserve," he said haughtily, turning around to go back to his bed.

As the man sat down on his bed and refused to turn around, Harry and Ron glanced at each other, knowing that this was the end of their conversation. With one last look, they left.

oooOooo

"That guy is a sicko," Ron supplied helpfully after the two Aurors returned to the Ministry. "I can see why he is sentenced for life in Azkaban."

"Yeah, me too," Harry replied absentmindedly, so distracted by his own thoughts that he almost bumped into a door, if it wasn't for the fact that Ron nudged him in the right direction. "He's completely out of touch with reality."

He made his way to his office, not even noticing when Bradley got up and asked if they needed anything. In fact, even after sitting at his desk for five minutes, he barely registered anything else other than his thoughts until Ron waved a hand in his face.

"Harry!"

He was pulled back into reality as Ron's face appeared before his. Running a hand through his hair, he gave his friend an apologetic smile.

"What's on your mind, Harry?" Ron asked, leaning back to sit down in a chair. "I mean, I know that Franklin guy is worrisome, but you look like someone just told you that you'll have to go up against another Dark Lord."

Harry gave him a look that clearly said that Ron's comment wasn't funny at all before giving up with a sigh.

"I don't know," he admitted after a moment, wondering why he felt so distracted. "It's just some of the thinks Franklin said. About why he even chose to do what he did… And what he said about me too, I think it got a little under my skin."

Ron nodded in agreement, a strange look passing over his face.

"There are a lot more similarities than we first thought," he pointed out, casting a Tempus charm to check the time. "And it is really worrisome if we think that there's a connection…"

"But mate," he continued on, giving Harry a serious look. "All this business about what he said about you? It's barmy. He's just a lunatic, don't mind what he says about you."

"Yeah," Harry agreed absentmindedly.

He really wanted to believe what Ron said, but if he thought more about it and _really_ think about what Franklin said about him, then that would mean that Malfoy… He stopped his train of thought, an uncomfortable tightness settling in his stomach. He wasn't going to think about those types of things. It was unsettling and his mind was trying to venture into strange, dark places. Most definitely because of a crazy man he just talked to and lack of sleep.

"I think we need a break," Ron announced, standing abruptly. "It is almost noon and I have famished. I think we could do with some food and some good company. Let's go find Hermione."

Before Harry was able to reply, he was hauled out of his chair to go find his other best friend.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Author: **Totchi  
**Title: **Stolen  
**Pairing: **HP/DM  
**Rating: **Mature  
**Summary: **Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped and a ransom letter was left in the possession of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry Potter has been called in to investigate and bring Draco back, but something about this kidnapping is not what it seems.

**Author's Notes:** I've been severely slacking. Please don't hurt me! I know that it's been ages and I am so sorry. The majority of this chapter had already been written out, but I just did not know where I wanted to wrap it up until now… And I have been getting very distracted from other ideas that seem to pop up at inopportune times (specifically, at work), but no fear! I did not abandon this fic. This chapter throws all sorts of clues out your way, though I must admit it was quite obvious who the evil Draco-snatcher was from the beginning… Enjoy!

oooOooo

"How can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco leaned back against his chair, eyes carefully regarding the man before him. If he thought carefully about his current situation, he supposed he should've felt a little bit humbled. After all, he was rather surprised he was able to secure a meeting with the Minister of Magic. Instead, he cleared his throat and reached into his robe to pull out a large stack of letters. Setting it down on the Minister's desk, he cleared his throat.

"I've been trying to resolve this on my own because, as you know, the Malfoy family likes to keep our personal lives out of the public's eyes…" he trailed off as he took a moment to steel himself, this time looking up to meet the Minister's gaze. "But unfortunately, I feel that I am at the end of my rope, so to speak."

Draco watched as Shacklebolt rifled through the letters, opening a few to scan the contents inside. Draco shifted a little in his seat, though he kept his head held up and eyes steady. He knew exactly what the contents to those letters were, and though they made Draco extremely uncomfortable, he would not show his embarrassment over the lewd and disgusting taunts that had been sent his way over the past few weeks.

"Mr. Malfoy, how long have you been receiving these letters?"

The Minister stopped looking through the letters, folding them up neatly before giving the blond an even gaze.

"I've received them over the course of three months," Draco answered back truthfully, taking a quick glance to the letters. "At first, one would come every week, delivered by an unmarked post owl. But the more time passed, the more frequently I would receive the letters."

He discreetly swallowed to push down the small knot that formed in his throat.

"The letters also became… more descriptive as time went on," he continued, opting to fold his hands together. "To the point where I feel that my own safety, as well as the safety of my family, is in danger."

"My family and I are used to getting threats and letters of anger from those who don't understand us but assume they know us," he continued on, shaking his head. "But this is something different and has left me incredibly disturbed. No matter what I've tried, I haven't been able to figure out who is sending these letters to me, and now I am afraid that something worse than receiving a letter with details of what this person plans to do to me might happen."

He waited in silence as the Minister seemed to think deeply over what Draco told him. Draco told himself that it was promising, that if the Minister thought Draco's claims were nothing but an overactive imagination, he wouldn't have bothered being so polite and would've just sent Draco straight out of his office.

"I can assure you that I take these claims quite seriously, Mr. Malfoy," Minister Shacklebolt assured him after a short moment of silence. "I will send this straight to the Auror Department and make sure that this gets looked into."

Draco nodded, slowly standing up from his chair. He reached his hand out and felt reassurance run through his body when the Minister stood up and took his hand in a shake.

"Thank you, Minister Shacklebolt."

oooOooo

Hermione placed her glass down, though her gaze did not stray away from Harry's face, eyeing him critically. After a few minutes of silence in which Harry tried not to squirm under Hermione's stare, Ron fidgeted in his seat, never really comfortable with the silence that came with Hermione's deep thinking. Ron began shifting more, in a way that Harry thought was to distract Hermione from whatever she was pondering about. Unfortunately for the two men, it didn't work, so Harry opted for clearing his throat.

"So…" he started, giving her a half smile. "Any reason in particular you were staring at me like a particularly difficult Potions assignment?"

Hermione's lips pursed as if she was trying to decide if she should share something or not.

"I don't know how you'll take it," she admitted honestly after the server came by to refill their drinks. "_Both_ of you."

"What are you talking about?" Ron gave his wife a wounded look. "I can take things perfectly fine, mind you. I think the years since school have helped me mature."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she looked at the two men before her, a redhead with an offended expression and a raven-haired man nodding in agreement. Honestly, sometimes she thought they hadn't matured in the slightest despite everything they've been through over the years.

"Okay, fine," she conceded, moving a hand to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. "But so help me, if you start interrupting me or try to dispute what I've said without hearing me out…"

She gave them one last look before becoming satisfied by their non-verbal agreement to her words. She sat back in her seat, her fingers absentmindedly fiddling with her drinking glass as she looked down at it in concentration.

"Based on everything you said… About this Franklin man in Azkaban and the correlations between his crimes and what's going on with Malfoy right now, I can say that it isn't hard at all to put some of the puzzle pieces together," she said, looking up to stare pointedly at Harry. "Unless you're trying to be extremely dim about the whole situation."

"Why would I want to be dim about this situation?" Harry asked, indignant. "Malfoy potentially being killed by a crazy man is hardly a situation that I'd want to be _dim_ in!"

Hermione pointedly ignored him, despite having threatened to stop if she was interrupted. She knew that they needed her help, even if they didn't like what she had to say or not.

"You keep getting stuck on the fact that what's happening to Malfoy happened to people before," she said, staring at the two men in front of her. "I think that's the biggest clue, if anything."

"But the guy is stuck in Azkaban, we went to go see him," Ron shook his head. "There's no way he could've done it."

Hermione continued before Harry could've put a word in, though he looked mildly disgruntled because he had a very important point to make. She already knew what he wanted to say.

"I'm not saying that you aren't taking this serious, Harry," she frowned deeply at him. "But I think that because it's about Malfoy and you are _you_, there are important things that you're missing."

"What do you mean, Hermione?" Ron asked after taking a long drink from his glass.

Hermione glanced at her husband and gave him a look, one that Ron just stared at before raising a brow in curiosity.

"Oh," he replied after a moment. "Hm, I see."

Harry sighed loudly, giving his two friends a disapproving look. Those shared looks weren't unusual to see, but his friends tended to forget that those looks often left him in the dark.

"Well mate…" Ron coughed, shifting in his seat as he gave his friend an uncomfortable smile. "I don't know if I really agree with it, but…"

He scratched the back of his head, staring hard at the table for a moment before looking back at his friend.

"Everything about Malfoy's case sounds so similar to what we researched about Franklin, right?"

He continued as Harry nodded sharply, wondering where Ron was headed with this, "And it really is the best bet – the _only_ bet – we can go with to try to figure out what's going on. Everything else we tried left us in a dead end, right? So… uh, well. If we look at everything, from Malfoy being kidnapped and you receiving these packages…"

He trailed off, looking extremely uncomfortable. Harry raised an eyebrow as he sat back, waiting for Ron to continue. After a few minutes struggling to find something to say, Ron looked over helplessly to his wife.

"Oh for goodness sake!" Hermione sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder how the two of you ever became Aurors in the first place!"

She turned to Harry, a frown on her face, "Harry, if you take yourself out of the picture and if it was anybody else but Malfoy, I'm sure that you would have figured this out ages ago."

She paused for a moment as she thought, contemplating if she should just tell Harry the answer that he wanted to hear or to just walk him through figuring it out. Deciding that they had spent too much of their own time trying to figure it out and getting nowhere, she shook her head.

"Harry," she said carefully, looking at her friend with a grim expression, "whoever kidnapped Malfoy is taunting _you_. They're sending you things because of your relationship _with him_."

Harry's brow furrowed as he thought over her words.

"But I don't have any sort of relationship with him, Hermione. I can't even stand him," he pointed out slowly, as if he were talking to a child.

He glanced over at Ron for help.

"All he ever does is come to the office to bother me," he added. "Ron knows all about it."

He felt an uneasy feeling in his stomach, as a part of him was slowly catching up to what Hermione was trying to imply. He stared at his friends, hand tightening on his glass.

"I'm sure he is not _pining_ over me," he pointed out, and when he received no comfort from his friends, he added almost as an afterthought, "And I'm pretty sure I'm not interested in blokes."

"Harry, I don't think you've really been interested in anyone, no matter what gender," Ron suggested helpfully, shaking his head. "When was the last time you gone out on a date?"

He snorted into his glass at the intensity of Harry's glare.

"Or got laid?"

He laughed aloud though he had the decency to wince as his wife slapped him on the shoulder, "What? Just being honest! For someone so popular, Harry really does have a serious lacking in the social department. All he does is hang out with a married couple."

Harry did not appreciate where the conversation had suddenly gone, but talking about the lack of love life Harry had would give them a small reprise from the stress of Malfoy's case, as well as the uncomfortable idea that Harry was somehow involved in this case on a more intimate level than just as an Auror trying to solve it.

oooOooo

Draco's hand curled into a fist, crumbling up the letter in his hand as he stalked down the Ministry corridor. When a low-level Ministry employee turned the corner and saw the look on his face, Draco couldn't even feel the smallest bit of satisfaction at the noise of terror the boy made as he ducked away.

He let his mind wander as he feet took him through the path that he had slowly gotten to memorize over the past few weeks of coming for advice. He let his lips curl at that thought, knowing that the advice came from Aurors who could apparently pretend to care about what he had to say and then turn around and _really_ let their real feelings show. He didn't even have to glance down at the letter he still had in his hand to know what the letter had said.

"_There was insufficient evidence for the claims you have made."_

"_The Ministry does not want to pursue any additional actions, as the Auror Department needs to be readily available for incidents that may occur."_

"_If you have any additional questions or concerns, you may direct your inquiries to the Secretary of the Auror Department."_

He could still remember his conversation with the Minister, which made the letter even bitterer to read through. For one moment, he had thought that someone had taken his claims seriously. Minister Shacklebolt had looked at all the letters Draco had provided him with a serious expression and told him that he would send it to the Auror Department with discretion. Draco was even able to request for a _specific_ Auror.

But none of that mattered because here in Draco's hand was a letter of denial.

As he rounded the final corner that would lead him to the Auror Department, his angry glare found another target to focus on – that ever polite secretary that grated on his nerves on the best of days. And since today he was in a particularly foul mood, he had no patience for playing polite games with the man.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked in a low voice, throwing the letter across the secretary's desk. "I had the approval of the _Minister_ that my inquiries would be sufficiently looked into by the Auror Department."

The secretary looked up at Draco in surprise before picking up the letter and scanning it.

"I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy, I don't know what I can tell you," the secretary eventually admitted, folding the letter back up and handing it to the irate blond. "If you'd like to take it up with any specific Aurors, I can get you onto the calendar for a meeting with them."

Draco frowned as he stared at the bright eyes of the secretary that looked up at him with a helpful expression.

"I'd like to talk to Potter," he said swiftly, glancing over to the office that he knew the dark-haired Auror sat at.

"Absolutely, Mr. Malfoy," the secretary gave him another smile, picking up his quill to write. "When would you like to schedule a meeting with him?"

"I'd like to talk to him right now," Draco replied, giving the other man a tight smile, showing that he would not accept no for an answer. "If you can manage that, Mr…?"

He glanced around the desk for any signs of the man's name. He supposed he should've known what the secretary's name was, he was in this area of the Ministry often enough.

"You can call me Bradley," the secretary offered him a brighter smile, standing up quickly. "Unfortunately, Auror Potter has left for lunch but he should be back soon. If you'd like, you can go ahead and wait in his office and I'll let him know you're here the minute he comes back."

Draco pursed his lips together, though he did offer the secretary a nod. Might as well wait a few minutes. And maybe he could demand an answer from Potter about why his issues weren't being considered serious enough for an investigation. He knew of little children with pets who've run away who've gotten the attention of the Auror Department.

As he walked into the Auror's office to wait for his arrival, he barely glanced at the secretary as he walked in with a cup of tea. Draco took it with a short nod of thanks, lifting it to his lips to take a sip. He wrinkled his nose as a bitter taste assaulted his senses and years of perfected manners kept him from spitting out the tea.

"This tastes horrible," he sat the teacup back down on the desk, looking up to glare at the secretary, who had moved to close the office door without Draco noticing.

"I know," the secretary gave an almost pitying smile to the other man, noticing as Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously, moving to stand up. "That potion tends to make anything taste vile."

Draco tried to push himself out of his chair, his hand sending the teacup scattering across the desk and crashing into the ground. As his airways started to restrict and black started to cover his vision, he wondered if Potter would make it back to his office in time to see this extremely interesting sight.

oooOooo

When Draco woke up, he found himself in a sitting position. Blinking groggily, he tried to remember the last thing that happened before waking up. Hadn't he gone to the Ministry to talk to someone…? Was it the Minister? He groaned aloud as he leaned back into his chair.

That couldn't be it, that time seemed so long ago. Why was that?

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found himself flooded with memories of the past few days. Eyes widening, he jerked to stand up, only to realize he was tied down to the chair.

"What in Merlin's name…" he growled out, though it sounded strangled, and Draco knew it was because he couldn't remember the last time he properly used his vocal cords.

"Where are you?!" he shouted in the dark room, twisting his head around to see his kidnapper.

He felt a hand on the back of his neck and he couldn't help but gasp, not expecting the man to have been behind him the entire time.

"Let go of me," he demanded, trying to shrug off the hand touching him.

He could feel as the other man leaned over, tensing as he felt lips brush against his ear.

"You seem more lively," his captor chuckled softly, taking a moment to let his breath brush against Draco's skin. "I'm glad that the revitalizing potion I gave you helped bring your energy back. As attractive as you are laying on a bed completely defenseless, I was getting a little bored."

The hair on the back of Draco's neck stood up and he stiffened at the man's words. The entire time he was trapped there, he was barely in the right state of mind to notice anything but the excruciating pain that this man put him through. He could still feel a burning sensation on his left arm and didn't have to look to see that it was bandaged up. But was there pain anywhere else?

He swallowed thickly, as unwanted thoughts assaulted his mind of what else could've happened. As if he knew what Draco was thinking about, his captor laughed softly, hands reaching out to turn the other man around. Draco watched as the other man slowly removed the glasses covering his face, a devious smirk stretched across his lips. Draco faintly noted that he would've thought the other man would've been unable to make that particular expression, if he hadn't just seen it first-hand.

"Draco, Draco, Draco…" Bradley crooned, leaning close enough that Draco could see the expression in his eyes. "You know I wouldn't do anything unbecoming towards you while you were _asleep_."

He brushed a hand through Draco's hair, reveling in the tenseness that ran through Draco's body. He laughed again, leaning forward to brush his lips across the man's cheek.

"I meant every word in those letters I sent to you…" he purred, hands continuing to move.

To Draco's horror, they were trying to seek refuge beneath his clothes.

"It really wasn't fair to me, you know," he continued, ignoring the way that Draco hissed and bared his teeth in anger. "The way you would always come into the department and ignore my very existence in favor for _Harry Potter_."

He sneered the Savior of the Wizarding World's name, hands turning forceful, grabbing Draco's body hard enough to warrant bruises.

"I did everything to get your attention," he continued, hissing as he started pulling apart Draco's shirt, buttons and seams splitting. "But let me tell you something, dear Draco…"

Draco found his head yanked backwards by a rough hand and heavy breathing was pressed up against his face.

"My father taught me something," the madman – Draco knew that he was dealing with a madman – spoke softly, in complete contrast to the hard grip he had on his hair. "When I was growing up, he taught me that sometimes people don't realize what they want or need… And that I can help them _see_."

"You see, Draco," he continued on, ignoring the grunt of pain he pulled from Draco's lips. "You _want_ Harry Potter, don't you? I've seen how you always come by hoping to see him… And haven't you realized that he doesn't see you at all?"

He slowly let go of Draco's hair, instead moving his hands to Draco's face.

"I could treat you so much better than him," he whispered softly, staring earnestly into Draco's horrified face. "And once you realize how well you'll be treated by me, how much you _love_ me, we can just let Auror Potter know how much he's missing."

He leaned closer still, a hand slowly moving down to press forcefully against Draco's neck. Draco barely had time to register if this man wanted to strangle him to death when a pair of lips descended on his. He snarled in protest and tried to bite down on the secretary's mouth, only to feel the hand around his neck press tight enough to stop all air from going into his lungs.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the other man laughed softly against his lips, continuing to press unwanted kisses to Draco's unmoving lips. "Just because I'm being nice to you right now, you don't want to try my patience."

Darkness licked at the corners of Draco's vision as he felt the burn from a lack of oxygen and had to blink his eyes forcefully to stay awake. He faintly thought it might be better if the other man let him slip back into unconsciousness rather than force him awake to assault him. Never in his life did Draco wish to see the familiar mop of black hair than at that moment. He really hoped that Potter was still known for making miracles happen, because he was sure that nothing less than a miracle would save him from the clutches of this insane man. Especially when this man was under the Ministry's nose all along.

'_Harry Potter,'_ he thought desperately, trying to ignore the pawing hands wondering across his body. _'You better hurry your bloody arse up… Or there won't be anything left of me to rescue.'_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Author: **Totchi  
**Title: **Stolen  
**Pairing: **HP/DM  
**Rating: **Mature  
**Summary: **Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped and a ransom letter was left in the possession of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry Potter has been called in to investigate and bring Draco back, but something about this kidnapping is not what it seems.

**Author's Notes:** It took me forever to update! I'm so sorry, I hope everyone will forgive me with this extra-long chapter! After this chapter, there will be one more (final) to go and maybe an epilogue. Thank you for sticking with me for so long! Hope you enjoy the ride.

oooOooo

Sweat was glistening on the pale body as eyelashes fluttered against flushed skin. A breathless sigh fell from swollen lips, parted and looking abused as if they were viciously attacked by another person's mouth. As the eyelashes moved once more, grey eyes found their mark, gaze so intense that it seemed he was trying to stare right through someone's soul.

Harry swallowed heavily, unable to look away from the form lying on the bed before him, watching as the other man's intense gaze altered, changing into a look of sheer _want_. When the other man made another sound, this one closer to a moan, Harry quickly looked to his face, noting that the grey eyes were now hidden behind eyelashes.

He felt frozen in place, unable to do nothing more than just stare at the figure in the bed, a bed that looked suspiciously like _his_ bed.

"Harry…" Harry's insides jumped as he heard the figure on the bed whisper something that sounded suspiciously like his name.

Harry could feel his feet slowly moving when he wasn't even sure he wanted to get any closer to the bed, but something inside compelled him to get a better look. Suddenly finding himself standing at the head of the bed and staring down at the body lying there, he stood frozen as the grey eyes that have haunted his thoughts for the past few days stared straight at him. A cold hand brushed against his fingers before moving to caress his wrist.

"Malfoy?" his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, as quiet as the other man when he spoke. "What are you doing here?"

Harry watched as the blond's eyes slowly closed and the hand left his wrist. It suddenly seemed as though Malfoy's demeanor changed from the wanton behavior of before to… resignation and defeat. When the blond opened his eyes again, gone was the smoldering gaze, replaced with pain and apprehension.

"Save me," Malfoy begged, hand reaching out once more. "Save me, Harry!"

"Harry!"

"_Harry_! Wake up!"

Harry jerked back, the sound of something shattering on the floor mingling with his heavy breathing. With wide eyes, he quickly looked around and recognized that he was sitting in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place and that Hermione was standing right beside him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, are you ok?" she asked with a surprised look on her face, looking as startled as Harry was feeling himself.

Swallowing thickly, he nodded his head, glancing to the side to notice that he must've knocked his coffee mug to the floor when he woke up. Grabbing his wand, he quickly spelled the mug back together and back onto the table.

"Sorry Hermione," he apologized, looking back to his friend. "I guess you just really startled me."

Hermione's lips pressed together in a thin line as she looked at Harry. Absentmindedly, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to pat it down. He knew he must've looked like a mess. Right after work, he went home and continued to study everything he had on the case. He figured that since it was a Friday, he could work and be uninterrupted for the entire weekend. However, it seemed that he didn't adequately account for exhaustion and lack of sleep…

"You look terrible, Harry," his friend sighed, moving to sit across from him. "I came in and was calling your name for the past five minutes. You looked like you were dead."

Harry groaned softly as he rubbed his eyes and straightened his glasses.

"I feel like I've just woken up from the dead," he admitted. "At least you woke me up, I was having the strangest dream…"

As soon as he mentioned the dream that he just had, he felt as though a bucket of ice water fell on top of his head. Sitting up straight, his eyes widened and he stared at his friend in horror. Hermione gasped and moved to stand before Harry quickly got a hold of himself and waved Hermione to stay seated.

"It's okay," he coughed lightly, shaking his head. "It was just… a very crazy dream. I think I've been working too hard."

Hermione gave him an unreadable glance before getting up from the table and moving around the kitchen, and the familiar sound of someone brewing tea reached Harry's ears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked from the kitchen sink, glancing back at her friend.

"Not really," Harry found himself chuckling despite himself. "It was rather disturbing to me… I suppose I've just been concentrating too much on Malfoy and his case."

"So it was about Malfoy?" Hermione prodded innocently, though Harry knew her well enough that it was anything but innocent. She was interested in knowing what he had dreamed about.

Harry watched as Hermione made her way back over with two cups of tea and a plate of sandwiches that he had no idea from where she got. When she sat back down, he gave her a faint smile.

"Definitely was about Malfoy," she answered her own question, raising the cup to her lips.

He grabbed one of the sandwiches and took a liberal bite before she could ask any more questions. He then proceeded to chew very slowly so that she'd get the hint. Hermione wrinkled her nose at his behavior before taking another sip of her tea.

"I guess you don't want to talk about it," she continued, staring at him. "But since you haven't gotten up and walked away, I still have a chance of getting it out of you."

She put her cup down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Harry took another quick bite of the sandwich as he tried to figure out what she was going to ask next.

"Were you dreaming that you weren't able to save him?" she asked next, staring at her friend with a frown on her face. "Oh Harry, I hope you weren't. You've been doing the best that you can in these circumstances…"

Harry had sipped on his tea by then and had to put it down quickly or else he would've choked on the liquid trying to reassure his friend that the dream was definitely not of that nature.

"No, Hermione!" he shook his head vigorously, a few coughs escaping as he cleared his throat. "It wasn't like that at all. It was… it was… Interesting."

His gaze averted to his mug and he could feel his face burn a little in embarrassment. He definitely did not need his best friends knowing about him having inappropriate dreams about the victim of the case he was working on, and especially if it was none other than Draco Malfoy. And he knew that if Hermione got wind of it, soon enough, Ron would be bearing down his office door at work, demanding to know why he would have lustful thoughts of the same person who tormented them during their adolescent years at Hogwarts.

Hermione cleared her throat and watched as Harry's eyes raised back up to meet hers. Seeing the embarrassed look on his face, she couldn't help but shake her head.

"Oh Harry," she sighed, not knowing if it'd be appropriate at the moment to laugh. "You don't have to be embarrassed. You've been thinking about him nonstop since the case started… It would be completely natural to-"

Harry quickly cut her off, incredulous, "Natural? You think it's natural for me to be dreaming about a man that has been kidnapped and is currently at the mercy of a perverted madman? Hermione, I thought I was going crazy from having dreams about him, but now I think you're the one that's gone crazy!"

Before Hermione could comment, he continued, "And of all people, it's Malfoy, no less!"

"You seem to really be focusing on the fact that it's Draco Malfoy," Hermione pointed out, tracing the rim of her mug with a finger. "It's really the main thing that you've been obsessing over with this case."

"How can I not, Hermione?" Harry asked loudly, moving to tug at his hair, a habit that he wasn't too proud of. "This case is crazy enough as it is, and I've been seeing all these different pictures of him that the kidnapper keeps on sending to me, and now I've started thinking about how attractive he is, I'm barely keeping my wits together!"

He suddenly realized that he might have been talking just a little bit too loudly in the small kitchen, but that surprise didn't hold a candle against the realization that he just confessed to finding the Malfoy heir attractive. And to his best friend, no less. Sighing loudly, he hung his head and closed his eyes. A migraine was growing and he had been hoping that the beginning of his weekend would've started a lot better than this.

He felt Hermione's hands reach across the table to hold his and he sagged a little, letting his weariness show in the comfort of his friend's presence.

"Just don't worry about that right now," she comforted softly, patting his hand. "All of that can be worried about later. Right now, it's your duty to solve his case and find him as soon as possible."

Harry shook his head, his weariness growing.

"I know Hermione," he agreed softly. "I know."

oooOooo

Draco pulled at the ropes that bound his arms to the chair, watching as the ropes stretched out before magically pulling his arms back down. He knew that it would be useless to try to use brute force to pull himself away from this chair, but it didn't stop him from trying. And if he didn't work off some of his frustration somehow, he would become completely useless in trying to escape. Sighing softly, he turned his head around the room that he found himself in, glad that his kidnapper had disappeared and that he wasn't under the influence of any potions. However, he knew that his time was limited and soon enough his kidnapper would come back and force-feed him some other nefarious liquid.

Wincing as the ropes dug into the sensitive flesh of his left forearm, he paused to look more critically around the room he was in. It was a kitchen, but it was so incredibly barren that it was barely recognizable as the room it was supposed to be. Though there wasn't any dust that he could find, the space definitely did not look lived in. In fact, in all the rooms that he could recall being in, he was sure that everything was very minimalistic. He also knew that it seemed to be a one-story house, though he could never see outside the windows, as they had been charmed to let no light inside.

A creak outside of the room made him pause and listen intently, trying to determine if his captor had indeed come back. When he didn't hear anything more, he resumed his analysis of the area around him. He couldn't see any traces of his wand, though he honestly couldn't remember the last time he even had his wand in his hand. Feeling a little desperate, he pushed his feet against the ground in an attempt to shift his chair around so he could get a better look of his surroundings. The chair legs screeched against the hardwood floors as his chair toppled and he winced, holding his breath to see if the chair would fall over. Luck was finally on his side as his chair regained its balance and he found himself facing the opposite side of the room, which held a doorway leading out to Merlin-knows-where and a large table against the wall that Draco hadn't noticed earlier. Squinting at the table in the dim lighting, he tried to distinguish the objects that were scattered everywhere. In the entire room, that area surrounding the table seemed quite opposite of everything else in the house. It seemed disorganized, with papers littering all sides and a few cauldrons and various potion bottles scattered around. Draco couldn't really determine what exactly the madman was trying to brew, but he could see some organic materials scattered around.

Jerking in an attempt to move closer to the table, he caught sight of something glowing in one of the cauldrons. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, he gave one more jerk to the chair and came to the conclusion that it was a rather sizeable Moonstone. He knew that there were various uses for a Moonstone, but with someone spewing off crazy words to him and telling him that he was going to fall in love with a madman, it wasn't hard for Draco to put two and two together. Gritting his teeth in anger, he looked to see what other things were littered on the table, in case he ever got the chance to escape and had to try to purge himself of the love potions that he was sure would be coming his way sometime soon.

The sound of a door opening and footsteps coming into the hall made Draco stop all together. Bradley was back and Draco was still stuck to this chair. Feeling frustrated enough to scream, he grunted softly and instead tried to jerk his chair around into its original position. It seemed that luck wasn't on his side this time around, and he felt everything slow down as his chair rotated and then leaned too heavily to the left. Bracing himself, he let out a pained noise as his chair impacted with the floor and his whole body was jolted. Soon after the sound of his crash, the sound of quick footsteps made its way closer and Draco couldn't find the energy to pick his head up and glare. The sound of bags being dropped to the side alerted him and he soon found hands tugging at his shirt as he was lifted upright.

"Now what were you trying to do?" Bradley asked in a soft coo, though his lips were pressed tight. "You weren't trying to escape, were you?"

Draco stared hard at the other man, for the first time noticing the bright glaze that was present in his eyes that was probably caused by delusion and too many recreational potions. For once in this entire situation, Draco was slowly putting all the pieces together and realized what he was up against.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he managed to say dryly, his stare turning steely as he kept his eyes on the other man's. "I'm having such a wonderful time, why would I want to leave?"

Draco supposed, a second too late, that taunting his captor wasn't the smartest of moves. And as he found a wand pressed snuggly against his Adam's apple, he realized that he was extremely tired of all the bodily threats against him. When the wand did not leave from his neck, Draco looked up at Bradley's face.

"I thought that you loved me," he said, voice strained. It took him every ounce of will power not to get ill from saying those words.

Swallowing, he continued, "I don't understand why you keep hurting me."

Almost immediately, Bradley dropped his wand to the floor, as if burned. He sank to his knees before Draco.

"Oh Draco," he sighed, eyes open in shock as he reached up to hold Draco's face in his hands. "I would never want to hurt you. I do love you. So much that sometimes I just can't help myself."

He shook his head as he leaned closer to the other man, "Everything I've done was to help you."

Draco watched as Bradley moved one of his hands away from his face, trailing it down until it brushed the bandage on his arm. Draco couldn't help but wince.

"It was so ugly, of course I would help you get rid of it, Draco," Bradley said earnestly, looking down at the arm. "Nobody should mark you or claim you as theirs when they can't understand how wonderful you are."

Bradley paused, letting his other hand fall from Draco's face.

"That's why it makes me so sad that you're in love with him," he sighed softly, glancing back at Draco's face.

Draco stared at the man in confusion, unable to help himself before he spoke incredulously, "In love with who?"

Bradley frowned, his hand brushing against Draco's injured arm again. Draco noticed the change of demeanor and couldn't help but tense up.

"Draco, why must you continue to lie to me?" Bradley said softly, letting his hands fall away. "You don't have to pretend. I know about how you feel about Auror Potter…"

Bradley slowly stood up, staring down at Draco with a disappointed look.

"I know, Draco. I can see it with my own eyes. But you need to know that he doesn't deserve you. He doesn't even see you."

Draco's eyes narrowed as he stared at the other man.

"I don't love Harry Potter," he snapped out, tired of dealing with this madman. "I don't understand why you keep saying that I am!"

"Stop denying it!" Bradley roared, his whole body shaking with anger that appeared out of nowhere. "How can I help you when you keep lying to me?"

Shaking his head, he glared at Draco before moving over to the workbench in the corner of the room. Unable to follow him all the way to the table, Draco jerked his head around, trying to see what the other man was trying to do. He could hear Bradley mumbling angrily to himself and shove things around on the table, but when all movement behind him ceased and a soft exclamation of happiness sounded, Draco couldn't help but freeze up, arms unconsciously flexing against the ropes to see if somehow, someway, he would be able to escape this time. He didn't have to wait long until Bradley stepped back in front of him, looking as though he had just found some liquid luck hiding among the mess that was his worktable. In his hand was a small, dark bottle that made it difficult for Draco to tell what its contents were.

Draco swallowed as he watched Bradley move to uncork the bottle. Something told him that he didn't need to look at the potion to figure out what it was.

"Why are you doing this?" he found himself asking, unconsciously pressing back against his chair as if it would save him from his upcoming fate.

"Draco..." the other man popped the cork off of the potion bottle and Draco's senses were overwhelmed with the smell of grass, morning rain, and hot chocolate. "You need to realize that you're lying to yourself..."

He squatted down so that he was eye-level with the blond, a sad sort of grin tugging at his lips.

"You know," he said before taking a moment to smell the potion himself. "My dad used to tell me when I was a little boy that anybody can fall in love, but most of the time, nobody gets a happy ending."

He tilted his head to the side as he continued, "But you see, my dad was a very smart man. He realized that he could help other people become happy and help them realize that the people that they've fallen in love with were completely wrong for them."

Bradley laughed as he threw Draco a smile, shaking his head, "Unfortunately, my dad was a little self-involved and believed that every one of them were in love with _him_. But I do think he had some very valid points..."

He leaned closer to Draco, reaching out with one hand to hold his chin in place.

"Draco, the only thing stopping you from realizing that we are meant to be is your inability to admit that you are in love with Harry Potter," Bradley said sternly, raising up the bottle and pressing it against Draco's closed lips. "You need to stop hiding it from yourself or else I just can't help you..."

Draco clamped his jaw shut and shook his head vigorously to get the hand gripping his face to loosen up. After a few minutes of struggling with each other, Bradley gained the upper hand as he was able to stand up and pressure Draco's mouth open. His expression was one of pure concentration as he shoved the bottle halfway down Draco's throat and the liquid began a warm, sweet path down his throat as his senses were assaulted by smells that he knew were only available to him.

Draco choked and sputtered, trying to make his gag reflex work enough to vomit the potion back up. Bradley, however, seemed to know that this was what he was trying to do and instead held a hand over his mouth and pinched his nose, restricting all the oxygen from Draco's airways.

"This part was always the hardest for them to deal with too," Bradley murmured in a soft voice, nodding his head to himself as he held Draco's mouth closed. "Draco, you can't keep this up forever."

As if his body knew what Bradley said was true, Draco started choking with his mouth closed. Because the liquid had nowhere else to go but down, he squeezed his eyes shut and had no choice but to swallow, feeling the liquid slowly turn into warmth within his belly. As he opened his eyes, he noticed that Bradley had finally let go of his nose and mouth and was watching him carefully. Draco soon found it hard to keep his eyes open, a lethargic feeling passing through him and he shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

"Perfect..." he heard Bradley murmur, brushing a hand through Draco's hair. "When you can finally admit it to yourself that you have feelings for him, we'll be able to give you one last potion and then you'll want nothing more than to be with me for the rest of your life."

Draco could only make a soft groan as he leaned his head back against the chair, head lolling to the side as he tried to focus on something in particular. The warmth from his belly was slowly spreading through the rest of his body and his senses were still overwhelmed by the scents from the potion, though they seemed to be slowly changing into something different, more earthy, like leather and mud and there seemed to be a sweet note at the end of it, something sickenly sweet and sugary like... Draco's eyes fluttered close as his body relaxed against the bindings holding him in place. Yes, that was the scent of freshly baked treacle tart... The exact same smell that he encountered every weekend during his years at Hogwarts.

oooOooo

Harry rubbed at his eyes as he made his way through the Atrium, fighting back a yawn. Even though Monday mornings were usually pretty annoying, this one was exceedingly so since he had worked all weekend and still had no new leads in Malfoy's case. There was an edgy anxiousness that had slowly started developing in him that came with a rather painful headache that would appear sporadically, but he knew that there wasn't anything he could do about it. He knew that there was only so much more time left until the unthinkable happened - that he would find Draco lifeless in some alley, Harry having been unable to solve the case in time.

He swallowed to dislodge the knot that was forming in his throat, shaking his head as he slowed his breathing down and forced himself to think calming thoughts. Having a mild panic attack on his way to his office for work would not help him in the least. As he made his way into the elevator, he pushed the button to the second floor and waited until the door was ready to close.

"Hold the door, please," came a deep voice and Harry recognized it instantly, sticking his hand out to stop the elevator door from closing.

He took a step back as the other man made his way into the elevator, throwing Harry a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Harry," Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned over to press the button to the first floor.

He took a moment to straighten his robes before glancing at Harry with a curious stare.

"You're in rather early, Harry," he commented lightly, taking in Harry's rather disheveled appearance. "If you don't mind me saying, it looks like it wouldn't have hurt for you to have had a few more hours of rest."

Harry couldn't help the sheepish smile from pulling at his lips, a faint chuckle coming from his mouth. As busy as he was, he had stopped paying attention to his appearance. After all, it wasn't exactly encouraging to fix his hair when the mirror chastised him from having dark circles under his eyes every time he came near.

"I could do with some more sleep," he agreed with a sigh. "But I've been really busy with the Malfoy case and I really need to get a break in the case soon. I can always rest afterwards, anyways. You know how it is."

Shacklebolt nodded knowingly, a contemplative expression crossing his face as he looked like he was thinking back to the time that he was an Auror.

"I can't say that I miss that part of the job," he replied thoughtfully after a moment, throwing Harry a smile. "Though it does get a little dull in my office every day."

He turned to face Harry properly, a small furrow in his brow.

"I know that you take each of your cases seriously Harry, but I don't see how Malfoy's case would cause you to lose so much sleep," he pointed out, shaking his head. "I know that you have some history with him, and I knew that you'd be the right one for the case, but you really do look ill."

Harry could feel a confused expression crossing his face before he frowned, shaking his head. He knew that most of the Ministry still held reservations about the Malfoy name, but Draco had been kidnapped and that definitely was something Harry was willing to lose sleep over. Any case like this would cause the Aurors to react in the same way.

"I don't understand what you mean," he admitted after his confusion settled. "Sir, it's extremely important. He could be killed if we don't find him soon."

The elevator announced that they had arrived on the first floor and Harry belatedly realized that he must've missed his stop. The look on Shacklebolt's face made Harry pause in his tracks, his hand halfway to the elevator buttons. Shacklebolt was frowning and he shook his head, moving towards the open elevator door and gesturing for Harry to follow. Harry dropped his hand and followed the Minister out of the elevator, wondering what was going on.

When Shacklebolt finally reached his office, he opened the door for Harry to come in before following, closing the door soundly. He went to the other side of his desk and waved his wand, sending a privacy spell around the room before folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Harry," he said, staring at the Auror. "What are you talking about? The case that I sent to you mentioned nothing about a kidnapping. How did it escalate to such a dangerous point?"

Harry's confusion came back and he shook his head, trying to piece together what the Minister was saying.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said slowly, still trying to see where the connection was lost. "I don't understand what you're talking about. I never received a case from you. I'm referring to the case that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy petitioned, the one regarding Draco Malfoy's kidnapping. I've been working on it for a week now with Ron."

Shacklebolt put his wand down before moving to a cabinet, opening it to pull out a file. He opened it up and set it down on the desk, facing Harry.

"Draco Malfoy came to me a few weeks ago to report security concerns for himself," he said as he sat down in his seat, gesturing for Harry to do the same in the chair across from him. "It seems that he had a stalker that had been sending him explicit messages to the point where Draco believed that he was in physical danger, and that his family might be put into danger as well."

Harry reached down into the file, flipping through the letters that were neatly stacked on the desk. Malfoy was receiving letters from a stalker? He felt cold seeping into his bones. There was no way that this could've been a coincidence - these letters had to be from the person who kidnapped him.

"Why did the Auror Department never receive these?" he asked, closing the folder and picking it up as he looked at the Minister. "This could be the same person who's taken him."

Shacklebolt's lips pursed as he shook his head, staring at Harry.

"I did send them to the Auror Department, only a day after meeting with him, Harry," he spoke softly, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to be listening on the other side even though he had cast a muffling spell. "It was posted as an urgent delivery, straight to you because I believed that you'd be the best one for the case and Draco had asked for discretion. You should have received it weeks ago."

The cold that Harry felt suddenly dropped two degrees.

Standing up quickly, he gave a nod to Shacklebolt before turning to the door.

"I think I just got my break in the case, sir," he said quickly, making sure to tuck the folder into his side. "I don't have time to explain it now, but I'll let you know what happens as soon as we get Malfoy back."

Without another word, he opened the door and tried his best not to sprint the entire way back to the Auror Department.

When Harry arrived to the Auror Department and noticed an unfamiliar person sitting at Bradley's desk, he knew that his suspicions were correct.

"Where is Bradley?" he asked tersely, trying to hide his anxiousness. "Why isn't he in today?"

The young witch glanced up from a report she was organizing and gave Harry a smile upon realizing who was speaking to her.

"Hello Auror Potter!" she smiled, either choosing to ignore how he looked or just not able to tell that his facial expression conveyed that he did not want to exchange pleasantries. When the girl started twirling her hair, Harry had to force himself not to roll his eyes.

"Bradley?" he asked again in a sharp tone, frowning. "Do you happen to know where he is?"

Finally coming to the conclusion that Harry didn't want to chat with her, the witch gave a soft sigh and sat back down, something akin to a pout on her face.

"He called in sick this morning," she replied, glancing down at her report again. "Said something about how he wasn't feeling well and probably wouldn't come in tomorrow, either."

Harry turned and quickly walked away, not bothering to acknowledge the hopeful, "Please let me know if I can help you in any way, Auror Potter!" that followed his retreating form.

"Ron!" Harry shouted as he slammed the door to his friend's office open.

Ron quickly looked up from the report he was writing on to see the expression on Harry's face.

"What's wrong, Harry?" he asked quickly, standing up in alarm. "Did you find a lead in the case?"

Harry gave a sharp nod before gesturing to Ron to follow him.

"We have to go find Hermione, she needs to look up something before I can be positive about my hunch."

He turned and quickly made his way out of the office, not even bothering to look behind him to see if Ron had followed.

oooOooo

Harry could honestly say that he had expected Hermione's shocked expression and Ron's outraged exclamation, but the time was ticking and the more time he wasted trying to get his friends to get over their surprise was more time they could've spent tracking down the psychopath that had kidnapped Draco.

"Hermione, I need his address," he urged, waving his hand in the direction of the magical filing cabinets before her.

"I understand all the privacy protocols," he continued, cutting her off. "I'll deal with that later. Right now, we really need to find him!"

Hermione pursed her lips together before she turned away for a moment, using her wand to cast a spell to get what they were looking for. When she handed him the slip of paper with the information he needed, it was her turn to cut him off as he opened his mouth to say thanks.

"Just go!" she ushered them away as she turned back around to shuffle through more files. "I'll try to find anything else that would be useful. Try to floo me when you have the chance."

All he heard before racing out of the room was a loud sigh from Ron and a grumbled, "I knew I should've had an early lunch..."

oooOooo

When Draco came back to consciousness, all he could get his mind to focus on was the fact that he was now laying on an extremely soft bed and that there was an intense heat surrounding him, invading his nose and lungs and making him feel as though he was going to burn to death. That thought brought the unwelcomed memory of his childhood, gripping tightly to a firm body slicked with sweat, his own shirt glued to him from intense heat. And the flames! He never felt something quite as hot as the Fiendfyre until now, this intense heat bent on suffocating the life out of him. He closed his eyes as he sank further into the mattress, trying to will away the heat.

"So hot..." he moaned softly, shifting a little to turn on his side.

A soft breeze tickled the skin of his neck, causing goose bumps to rise when he heard a chuckle behind him.

"It'll be ok soon, you're doing just fine."

The voice grated on his nerves, but he only had enough strength to make a noise of discomfort and tried to roll away. A hand caught his sleeve as he tried to move and Draco could feel a dip in the bed as the person beside him climbed in the bed.

"You're going to be alright, just as soon as you figure out what you need to do."

Through the haze, Draco listened to the words being spoken, but he was unable to focus too long on what the man meant. All he wanted was for the heat and the pain to go away.

Fingertips brushed at the junction where his shirt sleeve met his wrist and the point that felt the pressure of the fingers began to burn, as if Draco had accidently brushed up against a hot tea kettle. He jerked his hand away and tried to move again, only to be pressed back into the bed by hands firmly pressing into his hipbones. When Draco opened his eyes, he tried to focus on the figure above him, but the room was too dark and all his other senses seemed to be on overload. When the man shifted above him, setting himself down on Draco's thighs, Draco could do nothing but stare, trying to get images to focus through his will alone. When the hands at his waist began to move up to the buttons keeping his shirt together, Draco's breath hitched. Fingers began to move, brushing against the buttons before working through the process of undoing them. When a hand dipped into his shirt, Draco reacted instinctually, shoving the hand away with his own.

He did not expect the burning sensation that accompanied it that left him breathless, feeling his skin prickle and tighten as if a dragon had just warned him to stay away.

"Draco," Bradley murmured softly, taking a shirt-covered wrist into his hand. "When will you learn? You're just going to have to trust me."

He let go of Draco's arm and turned his attention to Draco's fully exposed chest, hands reaching up to hover over his abdomen. When one brushed against his skin, Draco's breathing had increased and he had to choke back the pained noise trying to escape his mouth.

"Do you understand now?" Bradley asked softly, staring at the pained expression on the other man's face. "If you could just understand-" he emphasized this with another brush of his hand, this time against Draco's side, "If you get it, then you can make all the pain go away."

A sob was torn from Draco's throat as both palms pushed hard into his belly, bright white burning pain coming from his stomach. He felt himself jerk back and for a brief moment, he could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head. The trail of fire traveled away from his midsection and up to his head as Bradley shifted, holding Draco's face in his hands. The pain had become so intense that Draco had lost his vision all together and all he could do was think and feel about the pain and how it was never going away. From somewhere far away, he could make out the sound of broken sobs, the sound painful to his own ears, but he was too lost to realize they were coming from his own mouth.

Bradley smiled gently as he watched the man beneath him convulse with pain.

"Draco, do you understand now?" he asked, murmuring into the other man's ear. "Do you understand what can stop the pain? Do you want the pain to go away?"

Bradley's expression fell when he didn't receive a response, but before he had to prompt Draco into action, the blond gasped as one particularly painful sensation went through him.

"Who is the one who's supposed to save you?" Bradley asked in a low voice, threading his fingers through Draco's hair, ignoring the sharp cry that came right after. "Who isn't here right now?"

The only response he got was a pained groan as Draco refused to cooperate.

"Who is it?!" he demanded, hauling Draco up by his hair, sneering.

He took some comfort in the fact that the other man was openly sobbing now, from what Bradley could only assume be from the magnitude of pain he was in. The pain that was caused by none other than that selfish, good-for-nothing Auror that never gave Draco the attention he deserved.

"You have to tell me his name," he continued, voice breaking as he shook the other man. "Tell me who you want so that I can make the pain go away."

Bradley let the other man go, watching as he dropped limply back into bed. Before Bradley began to lose his patience, he caught the tail end of something mumbled.

"What did you just say?" he asked, eyes bright with excitement. "Tell me."

He reached out and gripped Draco's shoulders tightly, watching as he thrashed around in pain.

"Tell me," he repeated, letting him go, watching as the other man shook from the pain.

"P-potter..." came the moaned response as Draco's hands grasped uselessly at the bed covers.

Bradley's smile spread across from his face as he leaned forward, ignoring the pained protests that he got in return as he gently cupped Draco's face.

"Yes, you've finally admitted it, Draco," he murmured happily. "Now we just need to let him know what exactly he's been missing all these years and then it'll all be over."

oooOooo

When Harry and Ron got to Bradley's apartment, no words needed to be said between the two of them to know that something was seriously wrong.

"I can't believe someone like this was able to worm his way into the Ministry," Ron sighed, looking around at the messy flat with wide eyes. "I thought we had finally got rid of all the rats in the Ministry."

Harry had walked over to a small table covered in scattered paper and small vials.

"I don't think we ever accounted for crazy people who kidnap ex-Death Eaters before threatening law enforcement."

Harry frowned as he picked up one of the vials, a plain black tube with some liquid inside. Something was familiar about these...

Ron's soft exclamation of surprise caused him to turn toward the source, watching as Ron tugged a heavy canvas off of the coffee table set next to the lone chair in the living area. When Harry saw the small stone basin, everything clicked.

"Ron, look," he gathered up all the vials he could find. "Ministry-required memories for evidence."

Harry glanced back to the table when something else caught his eye. He put down the vials as he moved to shuffle through the documents on the table. When he opened one folder to see someone familiar staring back at him, he dropped it in surprise.

"These are copies from Franklin's file," he murmured, spreading them out so Ron could also see them.

After a moment, Ron voiced the concern that was in Harry's own head.

"The files we had are still in your office, aren't they, Harry?" he asked as he read through a small memo. "And I don't remember reading through any of these... Or seeing pensieve memories."

Harry barely registered the latter part of what Ron said when he picked up one particular report.

"Franklin has one surviving relative," Harry said faintly, re-reading the words to make sure he had read it right. "Ron, we should've seen it sooner..."

He showed Ron the report, where in big, bold letters it said that the executor of what was left of Jeremiah Franklin's estate would be none other than his one and only son, Bradley Scott Franklin.


End file.
